


First Rights

by walkwithursus



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Femdermo, First Rights, First Time, Gender or Sex Swap, Historical Inaccuracy, Loss of Virginity, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkwithursus/pseuds/walkwithursus
Summary: As sultana of Al Quolanudar, Nandor the Relentless is permitted to take First Rights, should a maiden within her borders catch her eye. Guillermo is one such maiden.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	First Rights

**Author's Note:**

> This story depicts a fictional society in a fictional country and is not meant to be a historically accurate account of any specific culture in any time period. The author does not condone arranged marriage or sexual slavery in any way.

Being the leader of a country had its privileges, and as ruler of Al Quolanudar, Nandor the Relentless had many. Along with thirty-seven wives and a plethora of concubines, the sultana was permitted to take First Rights, should a bride within her borders prove enticing enough to catch her eye. 

Unfortunately for those maidens, Nandor the Relentless only had an eye for war. Today’s virgin procession was little more than a formality, as tomorrow she and her army would be setting out on a campaign to repel the Qinal invaders from Al Quolanudar’s borders. 

But not before the Ceremony of First Rights.

The council had been begging her for days to take an audience with the intended wives of the surrounding villages, some of whom had postponed their weddings for weeks out of respect for the tradition. Nandor could neglect the duty no longer, and so, despite the pressing matter of invasion on her mind, she bade them come. 

The ceremony was simple. Nandor lounged atop her throne as the maidens were paraded in front of her, naked apart from a single white shroud covering them from head to toe. Nandor swept a disinterested gaze along the line. For the most part the women were interchangeable, varying only slightly from figure to figure; a few inches in height here, a bit of weight there. Nothing so interesting as to tempt her, especially with her thoughts so preoccupied with tomorrow’s departure. Bedding virgins was the sort of thing she preferred to do on a homecoming, when she could devote her full attention to the task. Though perhaps, she thought, as she caught sight of a particular maiden toward the back of the line, she deserved a little distraction tonight after all. A going away present to herself. 

Nandor sat forward slightly in her throne. Her eyes had landed on the second to last woman in line, shorter and rounder than the rest under a snowy white veil. The silk obscured the finer details of her features, though Nandor could just make out warm brown skin, dark hair to the shoulder, and the fattest pair of tits she had ever seen in her life. Just looking at the girl made her breath catch and her stomach clench, and she held up a hand to stop the procession. At a nod from the sultana, one of the guards seized the maiden above the elbow and separated her from the group. She stumbled slightly as she was brought forward, coming to a halt a few feet away from Nandor’s throne. 

With as much dignity as she could muster, Guillermo de la Cruz knelt at Nandor’s feet. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she watched the warrior queen appraise her through a layer of silk, one large, beringed hand stroking her chin as if in deep thought. At last, Nandor spoke, and Guillermo felt a shiver run down her spine at the timbre of her voice—a voice that commanded armies.

“Name yourself.” 

“Guillermo of The Bronx,” she answered, a tremor belying the confidence she had tried to imbue in her tone.

“How old are you, Guillermo?”

“Twenty-nine, Your Majesty.” Guillermo swallowed as Nandor’s eyes swept hungrily down her body. She had only to look down to know that her shroud was perfectly see-through, puffy brown nipples on full display for the sultana to see. She forced her arms to remain at her sides, even as she longed to cross them over her chest and preserve her modesty. 

Another minute passed before Nandor gestured ambiguously to the guard. A large hand seized Guillermo around the arm again, firm yet not quite rough enough to bruise. Guillermo climbed unsteadily to her feet, and was about to head back to her place in line when she was tugged in the opposite direction, toward a door she hadn’t yet been through—a door that led further into the palace. Guillermo’s stomach lurched. Nandor hadn’t dismissed her. Nandor had _chosen_ her, out of all the others, to deflower—as was her right. Guillermo barely had time to register the wide-eyed looks of the other maidens before she was being led past them, through a door and into the shadowy passageway beyond. 

The rest of the morning passed in a blur for Guillermo. As soon as the doors slammed behind her she was whisked away to be groomed and pampered by servants in preparation for her night with the sultana. Her nails were trimmed and polished, her skin scrubbed with pumice and then slathered in oils until it was soft and glistening. One of the women spent considerable time and effort attempting to comb the snarls out of her hair, though it ended up tangled again within a matter of minutes. 

Throughout the process, she tried not to let her thoughts stray too far ahead to what she knew was coming. It wasn’t often that Nandor the Relentless claimed First Rights; Guillermo had never met anyone who’d been selected by the sultana, and had certainly thought herself safe from the possibility. The processions were considered more of a formality among the local villages, an opportunity to seek their leader’s blessing rather than a chance to have their maidens’ virtue stolen. Thus, it had come as an utter shock when she’d been chosen, a shock that hadn’t completely dissipated yet as she was escorted to the royal chambers later that night. 

The carved stone columns and mosaic tile floors went unnoticed as she was marched through the halls, an armed guard on either side. After hours of pampering, she had been clothed in the same white silk veil she had worn earlier, covering her naked body from the top of her head to just below her ankles. Her bare feet made no sound on the palace floor, but the fabric swished softly around her with every step. Guillermo concentrated on the sound, allowing the little noises to caress her ears like reassuring whispers. _Swish swish. Swish swish._

After what felt like hardly any time at all, the guards paused in front of a pair of ornately carved double doors. Guillermo was bid enter, and after taking a steadying breath, she slipped inside to greet the sultana, Nandor the Relentless, Conqueror of Thousands, Immortal Warrior and self-stylized Alexander the Second. 

The sight that met her held Guillermo rooted to the spot. 

Guillermo had caught glimpses of Nandor the Relentless before, of course. Not just today, but many times—riding through her village on horseback, dressed in leathers and armor, or else reclining on a palanquin clothed in fine silks. She had expected Nandor to be in armor now, or at least some sort of elaborate royal garment as she had been wearing in the throne room this morning, but instead, the warrior queen lounged naked on a bed piled high with cushions, her strong, brown body padded with muscles Guillermo hadn't even known existed. Her startled gaze landed on the sultana’s bare breasts, though her eyes were quickly drawn lower to an impressive trail of dark hair descending from Nandor’s navel to the nest of curls between her legs. 

Guillermo's eyes snapped back up to the sultana's face, a dark blush burning her cheeks. She had seen women naked before, but never like this. Nandor the Relentless was something else entirely, beautiful and powerful and sensual in a way Guillermo hadn’t even thought possible, except perhaps in her most private imaginings. Just being near, Guillermo felt in awe of her—and of that fact that out of all the others, it was she who had been chosen for this sacred rite.

Nandor watched Guillermo’s reaction with lustful amusement, noticing the way she bowed her head almost shyly at the sight of her body. “Come,” she called, beckoning the maiden forward with a wave of her hand. 

Guillermo swished across the carpet-strewn floor and knelt before the sultana. Nandor offered her hand, and Guillermo kissed the rings on her fingers through the silk veil. “Your Majesty,” she murmured.

Nandor motioned for her to rise, and she did so, her face still angled toward the floor. Nandor took that opportunity to appraise Guillermo’s features again, gaze lingering on her heavy breasts and wide, dimpled hips. She had made a wise choice. The girl was temptation itself, even more desirable up close than she had been at Nandor’s feet; a gift wrapped up for her in sheer white silk. Nandor’s fingers ached to strip off the veil, to tumble the girl into bed and take her pleasure with abandon, but she restrained herself, determined to make the night last. Tomorrow, Guillermo would return to her fiancé’s arms, but tonight, her body belonged to her queen. 

In one fluid motion Nandor rose, her large, muscled frame towering over Guillermo’s. Guillermo stood her ground as she gazed up into Nandor’s face, searching her expression for some clue as to what would happen next. This was it. They were alone now. Guillermo had been scrubbed raw and polished until she shone, all for the purpose of pleasing the sultana. But what happened now? Would they get right into it? Would they talk first? The servants had mentioned a few things to expect that morning, but Guillermo had failed to retain any of them—something about the sultana being… attentive? Retentive? No, that couldn’t be right. A thousand questions raced through Guillermo’s mind, faster than her galloping pulse—until Nandor crouched at her feet and made to lift the veil, and her questions were answered. _Oh._ So they’d just be getting right into it. Well, that answered that, then.

Unfortunately, Guillermo flinched at the first brush of the sultana’s hand against her bare skin, and Nandor stilled, looking up at Guillermo with a small frown. The lines around Nandor’s mouth were painfully distracting. 

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Guillermo said quickly. “Forgive me. I’ve never done this before. But, of course, you know that.” She tittered nervously, fighting the urge to wring her hands.

Nandor narrowed her eyes in response. From her crouched position, she had the perfect view up the maiden’s thighs, over her mound, across her belly and under her breasts. The nest of curls between her legs was at eye level, and it would only be too easy for Nandor to lean in and press her face into that heat. She was loath to stand and sacrifice that position, but stand she did, until she was looming over Guillermo once more.

“Y-you can take it off, really. Please, Your Majesty,” Guillermo said, an edge of panic to her voice. “I wasn’t trying to refuse you.”

Nandor shook her head. “No.”

“No?” Guillermo felt her heart quite literally stop in her chest.

“I’ve changed my mind. We will leave it on for now. Until you are ready,” said Nandor. The shadow of a grin flickered across her handsome face as she continued, “I can see everything anyway through these flimsy things. And touch…” 

Guillermo braced herself as Nandor slid her fingers across the sheer silk, tracing the shape of her body under her hands. Guillermo’s shoulders were narrow and sloping, her arms plump all the way down to her soft, pudgy hands. Nandor laced their fingers together through the veil and began rubbing tender circles into Guillermo’s palms, massaging the various pressure points that lay just under the skin. Slowly but surely, the tension melted from Guillermo’s body, until at last she was bold enough to reciprocate the touch, lightly squeezing Nandor’s fingers with her own. 

Raising Guillermo’s hands to her mouth, Nandor kissed each of her fingertips in turn before releasing the hold she had on her wrists. Her touch strayed back up Guillermo’s arms to her neck, where she lingered, stroking the sensitive skin of her throat through the fabric. Guillermo’s eyes fluttered closed. Every sensation in her body seemed heightened somehow, as if the sultana’s touch were waking up nerves that had long lain dormant just beneath the surface of her skin. At length Nandor placed her hands on Guillermo’s silk covered cheeks and pressed a kiss to her forehead, each eyelid, and finally her soft, plump lips. 

Guillermo inhaled sharply. She could feel Nandor’s breath through the veil, cool and steady against her cheek. Nandor traced her bottom lip with her thumb before kissing her again, and Guillermo shivered in her arms.

“You don’t have to be so gentle with me,” Guillermo said, braver with her eyes closed. “I’m yours to do with as you please. Aren’t I?”

“I could say the same to you,” said Nandor softly.

Guillermo’s eyes popped open behind the veil. “That’s not true. Is it?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be true?” 

“You’re… You’re the sultana. I can’t just touch you however I might want to—Your Majesty,” Guillermo remembered to add at the end.

“And how might you want to?” Nandor asked, leering down at her with a triumphant expression. 

Guillermo opened and closed her mouth like a trout. 

“Why don’t you try?” Nandor continued, gesturing down at her own lithe, naked body. Guillermo’s eyes followed her suggestion, trailing over the warrior queen’s breasts and hips and thighs, only inches from Guillermo’s own. “I am hereby granting you permission to touch me wherever you like. However you please. _Guillermo._ ”

Guillermo hesitated, her mouth hanging open. Was it a trick? A test of some sort? Would Nandor seize the dagger strapped to her calf and chop off her hand the instant she made contact? Logically, Guillermo doubted it, and yet her pulse quickened as she contemplated the possibility. 

“Do not keep your sultana waiting,” Nandor said, and Guillermo swallowed her misgivings to raise her arm under the cloth, placing one hand on Nandor’s bare hip. Her skin was surprisingly cool to the touch, and firm; lean muscle under a thin layer of fat. 

A beat of silence passed between them. After a few moments Nandor quirked a brow, her gaze the very essence of seduction. “Is that _really_ where you want to touch me?”

Guillermo blushed red. With a bit more confidence this time, she trailed her hand upward, until her palm was filled with the soft weight of one of Nandor’s breasts. 

Nandor made a low, rumbling noise of pleasure in her throat. “Good, Guillermo,” she said, pressing another kiss to her mouth through the veil. Guillermo tipped her face up into it this time as her thumb shyly circled Nandor’s nipple. Wetness pooled between her thighs as Nandor’s hands resumed their exploration, tracing the dip of her waist and the curve of her soft, ample hips. The thin silk did nothing to hide the hardness of Guillermo’s nipples, and Nandor rolled them between her fingers as she finally, finally took Guillermo’s breasts in her hands.

“Your body is incredible,” Nandor murmured, her lips brushing Guillermo’s ear through the silk. Guillermo shivered as one of Nandor’s hands left her breasts to travel lower, squeezing and kneading her soft belly as it went. Without warning, her fingers slid between Guillermo’s legs, rubbing her mound through the veil before dipping beneath. The fabric was immediately soaked as her folds were parted, her wetness covering Nandor’s fingertip and allowing for silky smooth strokes around the hardened nub of her clit. 

A soft, surprised moan left Guillermo’s lips, and she angled her hips slightly forward, granting Nandor increased access. Behind the shroud, Nandor could see that Guillermo had tipped her head back, her long eyelashes casting shadows across her cheeks. Truly, the girl was lovely, and sensitive, and though shy, Nandor was left with the impression that she would come apart quite easily in her hands. 

“How does it feel?” Nandor asked, squeezing the hand still cradling Guillermo’s breast.

“Strange,” Guillermo whispered. She widened her stance, and amended shyly, “Good.” 

Nandor hummed in approval, sliding a second finger alongside the first so that Guillermo’s clit was nestled between them. Her gentle circles soon became faster, harder, as Guillermo moved her hips in rocking motions, whimpering and keening softly in her throat. 

Suddenly, Guillermo’s whole body seized. A series of low, breathy moans issued from her bitten lips, and she collapsed against Nandor’s body, supported by a single one of the sultana's arms. Dazed, Nandor withdrew her fingers from between Guillermo’s legs and pulled back to look at her. 

“Did you just—?”

Panting too hard to speak, Guillermo nodded, her entire body coursing with shame. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t… couldn’t stop myself.”

In one fell swoop, Nandor threw the veil off of Guillermo’s body and crashed their mouths together, her hunger for the maiden chasing all thoughts of savoring the evening away. A gasp of shock exited Guillermo’s lips as Nandor wound powerful arms around her waist, pulling their naked bodies flush together. Guillermo’s lips were soft and plump, and when she finally opened her mouth her tongue was slick and tentative against Nandor’s own.

“You are _sinful,_ ” Nandor growled, pulling back with Guillermo’s lower lip between her teeth. “I simply _must_ taste you.”

Guillermo squeaked as Nandor threw her back onto the mountain of cushions. Coming up between her legs, Nandor relished the resistance as she prised the maiden’s thighs apart, only to groan in frustration at the sight of a plump hand covering Guillermo’s mound.

“Please,” Nandor murmured, slithering onto her belly and flipping her massive braid over one shoulder. Face to face with Guillermo’s hidden sex, Nandor pressed wet kisses to her fingers and dipped her tongue between them, hoping for a taste of the slick beneath. “ _Please._ I’ve made a mess of you so quickly. You must allow me to clean up after myself.”

There was a whimper, and Guillermo’s hand relaxed, fingers parting slightly to allow Nandor the access she desired. With a groan of longing, Nandor buried her tongue in Guillermo’s slit, flooding her mouth with the coveted taste of her arousal. Hooking her hands around Guillermo’s thighs, Nandor yanked her forward in one swift motion until her face was practically buried in Guillermo’s cunt, her coarse curls tickling Nandor’s nose. 

“Nngh, Your Majesty,” Guillermo groaned, shielding her eyes with her hand and peeking out between her fingers. The sight of the sultana between her legs, tongue stroking luxuriously through her wet folds, was overwhelming. “That feels… it’s so…”

“Too much?” 

Guillermo managed to nod. She felt oversensitive, her body still wracked with the occasional shiver from her embarrassingly sudden orgasm. With a final kitten lick to her clit, Nandor began kissing her way up Guillermo’s belly, pausing only to bury her face between her breasts. Nandor’s fingers sought and found her nipples and began teasing and pinching, until Guillermo arched her back to push herself further into Nandor’s hands. Finally, Nandor reached Guillermo’s mouth, and they shared a kiss as she hovered over her, supporting herself on one arm as her hand meandered back down between Guillermo’s thighs. Guillermo spread her legs invitingly, and Nandor guided one finger inside her. 

“Ahh,” Guillermo gasped, her walls clenching reflexively around the intrusion. 

“Shh,” Nandor murmured, stroking sweaty tangles off the maiden’s face as she curled her finger. Guillermo’s body was hot and slick, but her passage was narrow, even for a virgin. “You’re so tight for me. Have you ever touched yourself before?”

There was a beat of silence. Guillermo’s face turned impossibly redder before she finally nodded, her breaths coming in short gasps. “But not like—”

“This?” Nandor crooked her finger, applying firm pressure to the bundle of nerves on her upper wall. 

Trembling, Guillermo shook her head. “Only the outside,” she whispered. “Here.” Her hand fluttered shyly around her little pink clit. 

“Show me,” Nandor ordered, her voice low and strained. “Show me how you’ve done it in the past. Pleasure yourself for your sultana.”

Guillermo clenched tight around Nandor’s finger at the command. “R-really?”

“Would you make me beg, knowing it’s beneath me?” 

Guillermo’s laugh turned into a groan. The thought of Nandor the Relentless begging her for anything filled her with an ache that went soul deep. Stroking her fingers through damp curls, Guillermo began tracing her own hood with a fingertip, feather light as she circled the pink bud beneath. Nandor watched her face hungrily as she continued moving inside her, slow rhythmic pumps that seemed to reach all the way to Guillermo’s core.

“Look at me,” said Nandor, and Guillermo opened eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed. Nandor’s face loomed over her, brow furrowed in concentration and glistening with sweat. Guillermo craned her neck, and Nandor captured her lips in a kiss once more, at the same moment slipping a second finger in beside the first. 

“Oh fuck,” Guillermo whispered into Nandor’s mouth. Nandor took advantage of her parted lips to suck on her tongue, and Guillermo shuddered with uncontrolled delight. Nandor’s fingers were thick and nimble, and when they stroked her walls she felt as if she could come again already. The pressure in her gut was steadily building, warm and tight, until at last she was forced to draw her hand back, stopping the stroking of her clit. 

Nandor’s movements inside her did not slow. The two digits filled her more completely, so that every stroke seemed to brush a hidden nerve. 

“Your M-...Majesty,” she gasped, as Nandor took one of her nipples in her mouth. “I think, ah, it’s going to happen again.” 

Nandor moaned encouragingly around her breast, pumping her fingers in and out more quickly. Guillermo’s thighs began to shake, her cunt clenching tighter and tighter until at last she cried out, clawing desperately at the cushions as her climax overtook her. Nandor stroked her through it, relishing the flood of slick that coated her fingers anew and eased her entry. At length Guillermo stopped thrashing and lay still, her chest heaving with every breath. Nandor kissed her way fervently up Guillermo’s neck to capture her mouth, before pulling back to murmur, “Beautiful. I think you can take one more.”

“What?” Guillermo’s tired eyes snapped open, and she attempted to sit back up. “Your Majesty, wait—!”

Nandor slipped the third finger in beside the others, and Guillermo slammed back down against the bed. “Fuck!” she cried, her breathing ragged as Nandor thrust into her, her pace unyielding. “Fuck, please, fuck, I can’t—” The rest of her sentence was cut off as a long, wailing moan tore out of her throat. It had only been seconds, and she was coming again already, walls fluttering pathetically around Nandor’s fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

When at last it seemed she’d had enough, Nandor slowed the rhythm of her fingers to a gentle pulse, though she kept all three as deep inside Guillermo as they would go. The maiden looked utterly ravished at this point, her hair a crown of tangles and her brown skin tinged with a reddish glow. Nandor knelt to kiss the column of her throat and tasted salt on her lips, her entire body now glistening with sweat. 

Guillermo’s own shuddering, hitching breaths filled her ears, as did the wild thumping of her heart. Her body felt loose, pliant and relaxed in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Basking in the afterglow of the sultana’s attention, her state of bliss was suddenly interrupted by a wave of self-doubt; she had come three times now, and Nandor not at all. How selfish was she, to have reaped all these benefits for herself while sharing none with her queen? 

“What’s wrong?” Nandor asked, a line appearing between her brows at the sight of Guillermo’s expression. 

“I feel selfish,” Guillermo admitted, gazing beseechingly into Nandor’s eyes. “I mean, wasn’t the whole point of my being here to bring you pleasure?”

“You have brought me pleasure.”

“But Your Majesty—”

“Nandor,” said the sultana, sucking kisses into the hollow of Guillermo’s throat. “Call me Nandor.” 

“N-Nandor.” Guillermo tried the name out shyly. “Do you want me to…? Can I still…?” She slid her hand down Nandor’s taut belly, through the trail of hair below her navel and across the thatch of dark curls between her thighs. 

Nandor lifted herself up slightly and raised her eyebrows. “You want to?”

“Yes,” Guillermo breathed, nodding sincerely as she pushed apart the sultana’s folds with her fingers. “I want to.”

Grinning deviously, Nandor spread her legs, allowing Guillermo’s hand to slide further along her mound. Her cunt was just as soaked as Guillermo’s, if not more so, and Guillermo felt a thrill of pleasure course through her at the knowledge that her body had aroused the sultana this way. 

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Guillermo admitted, rubbing her thumb tentatively across Nandor’s much larger clit. 

“Just do as I do,” said Nandor, slowly stroking her thumb up and down Guillermo’s slick folds. Guillermo did the same, matching Nandor for speed and technique, until their movements eventually became faster and less precise. She slipped her fingers inside Nandor, one at a time until she was three deep and down to the last knuckle, mirroring the hand that was still inside her.

“Yesss. Good girl,” hissed Nandor, sucking a kiss into the tender skin of Guillermo’s breast.

Emboldened, Guillermo worked her hand faster, thrusting her fingers over and over again so that they brushed the sensitive nerves of Nandor’s upper wall. Nandor’s legs began to tremble slightly under her own weight, and she let herself rest on top of Guillermo’s body, their breasts and bellies flush together, hot and sticky with sweat.

“Harder,” Nandor ordered, and Guillermo obliged, fucking into the sultana’s body with short, sharp snaps of her wrist. Nandor did the same for her, and Guillermo writhed beneath her as her gut began to coil with tension once more. 

“If you keep doing that I’m g-...gonna come again,” Guillermo whimpered, trying as hard as she could to focus her attention on the sultana’s pleasure.

Nandor exhaled loudly as she flicked her thumb faster across Guillermo’s aching clit. “Don’t stop now,” she said, grinding her mound down hard against Guillermo’s hand. “Keep going. You’re doing so well.”

“Mmn,” Guillermo whined, attempting to force her body to behave. It was no good— _Nandor_ was too good. “Please, Your Majesty, ssslow down. I want to make you c-come so badly.” 

“Nandor,” the sultana reminded her, meeting Guillermo’s eyes with a piercing, lustful gaze. 

“Nandor,” Guillermo breathed.

Nandor’s circling slowed. The loss of stimulation was almost painful, but Guillermo pushed past that, every thought in her brain trained on bringing the sultana off. With her free hand, Guillermo reached between them to grasp Nandor’s breast, squeezing it in her hand as she curled and thrust her fingers inside her. 

A few seconds more was all it took, and Nandor was coming around her fingers, tight, rhythmic clenches that pushed Guillermo right up to and over the edge. Her release was only seconds behind, and they moaned together as they shared an orgasm, fingers slowing to gentle strokes as their bodies became almost unbearably sensitive.

Entirely satiated, Nandor collapsed beside Guillermo and pulled her snug against her body, limbs entwined in a sweaty tangle. She continued pressing kisses into the side of Guillermo’s neck and shoulder, until Guillermo turned her cheek and met Nandor’s lips with her own. They kissed passionately, languidly, until their breathing gradually slowed to an even match, heartbeats not far behind.

At length, Nandor pulled back to kiss the tip of Guillermo’s nose, her cheeks, her chin, before gazing into her eyes from a few inches away. Guillermo’s entire face was red, her dark hair plastered to her skin with sweat, and when she smiled, her eyes crinkled up at the corners. It was the fine details like this that Nandor had missed when looking at her through the veil, and she was glad to be able to admire them now.

“Tell me about your fiancé,” Nandor asked a few moments later as she snuggled into Guillermo’s side.

The warm afterglow faded rapidly from Guillermo’s mind as she was abruptly snapped back to reality, and the entire purpose of her being there. “There’s nothing to tell, really,” she said, breaking away from Nandor’s gaze.

“Have you met him?”

Guillermo shook her head. “No. He’s a friend of my fathers. He’s… quite a bit older than me,” she admitted, teeth digging into her lower lip. 

“So am I,” said Nandor.

“Yes, but not nearly as old. And you don’t act older. You’re so healthy and vibrant and full of life.” Guillermo’s cheeks bloomed with color as she realized what she had just said. “Anyway, I don’t know if I’ll be a wife so much as a caretaker,” she finished, attempting to bowl over her embarrassing outburst with a kernel of the truth. “At the very least, I don’t imagine we’ll be doing much of—” she waved a hand between their naked, entangled bodies, “— _this_ sort of thing.”

“Yeesh.” Nandor made a face that resonated deeply with Guillermo’s innermost feelings on the subject. “Why did you accept him, then?”

“I didn’t really have much of a choice, did I? I’m almost thirty years old. I’m not likely to receive another marriage offer. And my parents want to see me settled before… Well. You know.” She trailed off, waving a hand dismissively. 

“Ah. Parents.” Nandor nodded sagely. “Always thinking they know what is best for you. In my experience, they almost always don’t.”

Guillermo’s laughter quickly petered off into silence. With no real warning, her eyes became moist, and her throat choked up with suppressed emotion. “I’m never going to see you again, am I?” she asked.

“Well, you won’t for at least a month, since I am leaving first thing tomorrow for the border. But I am sure when I return victorious there will be a parade through your village. So you will see me then—possibly holding up the head of my vanquished enemy on a pike.” Nandor trailed off as Guillermo sat up suddenly, disconnecting their limbs in the process. From the sliver of Guillermo’s face that was still visible, she could sense a frown. “That’s not what you meant, is it?”

Guillermo didn’t answer. She had wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees and staring vacantly toward the door to Nandor’s chambers. Sitting up beside her, Nandor gently turned Guillermo’s cheek until she was looking into her eyes. 

“What do you want, Guillermo?” 

Guillermo shrugged her shoulders. It seemed an easy enough question, and yet she had no prepared answer. “I don’t know. No one’s ever asked me before.” The laugh she gave was short and bitter, and died quickly on the air. 

“Well, I’m asking you now,” said Nandor, stroking her thumb across Guillermo’s chin. “What do you want right now? For yourself? For your life?”

Guillermo was quiet for a long time as she thought about it. There was a gut reaction to the question, a feeling deep down that there was an answer inside her, as of yet undiscovered. “To have control,” she said at last, tasting the words as they left her mouth. “To not have people making decisions for me all the time. To be in control of my own destiny—and my own happiness. To be like you, I guess.”

Nandor’s fingers combed the hair off her neck and brought it over one shoulder. “You can never be exactly like me,” she said firmly. “Because you are you, and not me. But you can always be a better you. A happier you. Do you understand?”

Guillermo stifled a frown. She was fairly sure the sultana was attempting to be comforting, in her own weird way. “Yes. Thank you,” she replied, before taking a deep breath and looking around the room. Beside her, Nandor tugged a black robe on over her shoulders, leaving it unbelted at the waist. “I should probably go,” said Guillermo, holding the bed coverings over herself and shielding her body from Nandor’s gaze for the first time since the veil had come off.

Nandor’s answering nod was solemn. “That would probably be best. Normally I do not make my guests leave so soon, but I have much to do before I depart tomorrow.” 

“I understand,” said Guillermo, as Nandor took her hand and kissed it in a way that felt very much like farewell. The sultana dropped it and clapped her hands together.

“Malik Kafur!” Nandor called.

The doors to Nandor’s chambers opened and a curly haired servant entered, carrying the clothes Guillermo had worn to the palace that morning. She left them in a careful pile beside the door before bowing herself out. 

Guillermo’s mouth hung open in shock. “Was she listening outside the whole time?” she whispered, clutching a satin sheet over her chest.

“Not listening. Standing guard,” Nandor replied, unconcerned. 

“Standing guard? But she’s just a slave, isn’t she?”

“She is. And also the general of my army.”

A moment of stunned silence passed. Guillermo sank back against the pillows, trying to conceptualize the various contradicting roles this woman seemed to possess in her own head.

“Malik will be waiting outside to escort you when you are ready,” said Nandor, pressing her lips to Guillermo’s knuckles a final time before dropping her hand.

With a numb nod, Guillermo stood and walked over to retrieve the pile of clothes Malik had left for her. She dressed mechanically on the opposite side of the room, cognizant of Nandor’s eyes burning a hole into her back all the while. When she was finished, she turned back around, but did not cross the space between them. Somehow, she didn’t think she could bring herself to walk away from Nandor a second time. 

“I don’t really know what one usually says before a war send-off,” she said, attempting to keep things light despite the heaviness in her heart.

Nandor’s face broke apart into a grin. “Good luck will suffice.”

“Well then, good luck. And be careful,” said Guillermo, trying not to think about the imminent danger the sultana would undoubtedly be in when she set off tomorrow.

The door opened, then, and the curly haired woman from before reappeared. This time, Guillermo noticed the sword on her hip as Nandor beckoned her to approach.

“Malik. A word.”

The servant scurried over and crouched by the sultana’s side. A murmured conversation took place just out of earshot, though Guillermo barely tried to listen. She waited awkwardly across the room until Malik straightened up and walked back to the door, holding it open for her. 

“Madame.”

Guillermo took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling shakily. With a final glance at Nandor and a tiny wave, she exited the room and stood alone in the dimly lit passageway outside. She flinched when the doors closed behind her.

“Come,” said Malik, holding a torch before them as she started down the hall. Guillermo trailed in her wake, once again too preoccupied to notice the luxuriousness of the palace around her. After several minutes of walking in silence, Malik stopped abruptly and turned to face her.

They were paused at a crossroads. To the right was another hallway, while in front of them Guillermo could see the large front doors of the palace, behind which lay the outside world. Somewhere in the distance, many miles from here, was her village, where her family and husband-to-be were awaiting her return. The thought made Guillermo’s stomach pool with dread.

“The sultana has asked you to remain at the palace,” said Malik, holding Guillermo’s gaze. “If you choose to stay, you will be given a place of great honor in her harem.”

Guillermo’s eyes widened. It felt as though a bucket of ice cold water had just been dumped on top of her head, paralyzing both her body and her mind. After a few seconds her brain seemed to kickstart itself, and a thousand frenzied questions began clamoring for attention. Why hadn’t Nandor said anything to her before she’d left? What did living in a harem actually entail? Would she ever see her parents again? What about her fiance? What about her belongings, everything she had left behind at her home? 

The flame of the torch nearly flickered out, casting Malik’s face into momentary darkness. She was waiting for a response. Guillermo stared at her for a moment, at the clothes she wore and the sword on her hip, completely at a loss for what to say or do. Why did the decision have to be made so quickly? Why couldn’t she pause time and think this through, or at least find out the answers to her questions?

Although—perhaps the answer to her questions was right in front of her. Malik was a slave in Nandor’s household; who better to ask about the nature of a harem than one of its members?

Looking over her shoulder cautiously, Guillermo lowered her voice to a whisper before asking, “Isn’t living in a harem a bit like slavery? Not for the wives, but for the servants? The concubines?” 

Malik gave her a wise smile. “Perhaps. But I have heard it said that marriage is a bit like slavery too, madame. What matters most is where you choose to chain yourself.” With one last knowing look, Malik turned on her feet and began walking down the corridor that led further into the palace, assumingly toward the andaruni. At the halfway point she paused to glance over her shoulder at Guillermo. 

“Coming?” 

Guillermo swallowed hard and drew on all the strength and courage within her. It was now or never. With closed eyes, she lifted one foot and then the other, placing them in front of her until at last she had rejoined Malik in the passageway that would lead her toward her future.


End file.
